Belonging
by Shreiking Beauty
Summary: Spock doesn't feel like he belongs anywhere. The Vulcans don't think he belongs on Vulcan. The humans don't think he belongs on the Enterprise. He agrees with both. But one person, the person that really matters, his best friend Captain Kirk knows where he belongs, and makes sure he knows it too. After all, those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter. Spirk oneshot


Vulcans tried hard to keep their ancient barbaric emotions suppressed. Spock was no exception, but he had an armory of human emotions to smother as well. On Vulcan, he had been ridiculed and tormented for his human heritage. He had worked harder than his fair share to try to fit in. He knew it would be difficult when he enrolled in Star Fleet Academy, but he suspected that the humans wouldn't hate him for his human ancestry.

He was right. They didn't hate him or pick on him for his human blood. They now targeted him for his Vulcan roots. Spock felt like the way he lived his whole life was suddenly flipped. After his entire growing up was spent suppressing his emotions and devoting his mind to logic, he was now faced with a society that degraded him for such behavior. This prejudice followed him to the Enterprise.

"He's so cold."

"It's because he's Vulcan."

"So, he's half human. He should at least care when someone gets hurt or dies."

"My best friend died on the last mission and he just acted like it was another day on the job."

"He's like a mutant, he's not Vulcan and not human, somewhere in between."

"Like a whole new species."

"Ugh, please don't tell me the galaxy will soon be riddled with other Spocks."

"He's so judgmental."

"The other day, he got all mad at Ensign Abott in the lab because she made a simple mistake. He made her cry."

"I bet he wouldn't even care if something happened to his mother."

Spock pretended he didn't hear the gossip. Sometimes he wished he could remind everyone that Vulcans can hear whispers even across the room. Other times he wished he didn't have Vulcan hearing. He tried to justify his actions with logic, but he eventually decided that as the minority, he needed to be more conscious of their feelings.

He sat in the mess hall, chewing on a stick of celery as he went over his latest report on his PADD. A few tables away, a group of Ensigns began talking quieter, bringing attention to their conversation.

"What does he have against meat?" one of them whispered.

"I think he's worried he'll turn into a human if he eats the same food as us," another replied mockingly, eliciting a collective derogatory chuckle.

"What do you think would happen if he woke up one day with his eyebrows shaved and the tips of his ears cut off?"

"Geez, that's a little violent, don't you think?"

"What? I'm not gonna do it, I'm just saying it would be nice." That time, they didn't even try to suppress their laughter. Spock lost his appetite. Disposing of the last of his vegetables, he took his PADD to his quarters to finish up. On his way, he was met by Captain Kirk, his best friend.

"Spock, I was just going to meet you in mess. Where are you headed?"

"My quarters, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir', it makes me feel old. Why are you going to your quarters? I thought we were gonna eat and play chess."

"Forgive me, Captain, but I found the environment to be unsuited to work in. I planned to retire to my quarters to finish my report of the last mission."

"Okay, so . . . when you're finished, I'll meet you in rec room 7, okay?"

"Very well." Spock continued on his way, but Captain Kirk let his gaze linger a little longer.

"'No emotions' my ass," he muttered, turning to go the opposite direction. In the time that they had known each other, Jim had become especially perceptive to Spock's emotions. There was no doubt in his mind that he understood his First Officer better than the Vulcan understood himself. He knew that Spock enjoyed chewing on celery a little longer than necessary, and that he didn't like broccoli but ate it anyway, and he loved watching out the windows when we passed nebulae, and that it bothered him when people laughed at jokes he didn't understand. He also knew that there was something special about him.

Jim always felt a little more cheerful whenever Spock was around. He felt like he could count on Spock for anything, and the long voyages of the Enterprise were made so much more tolerable as he kept busy trying to solve the puzzle of Spock.

His most recent observations of Spock has worried him. He seemed sad. He was more distant and less talkative, and what really concerned him was his lack of friendly bickering with Bones. The other day, Bones had made some comment about his 'weird eyebrows' , and Spock, rather than replying with a snarky quip, continued on with his business.

This was what Jim wanted to talk to him about today. He hoped to have a nice evening of chess and casually invite him to another game in his quarters, where they could be alone. He'd make some excuse about the noise level or the crowd or that he had something in his room he needed. Of course, however, nothing went as planned. Jim ate with some of his buddies and left them for the rec room as quick as he could, but after waiting for over an hour, he became worried and went to find Spock himself.

He knocked gently on the door to Spock's quarters, hoping he wasn't meditating or something, but the rigid "come" that allowed him to enter was instantaneous. Most likely Spock could hear his footsteps and knew someone was outside his door before they even knocked.

Spock was at his computer, not looking up, as Jim walked in and sat across from him.

"Hey, I waited in the rec room, but you never showed up," Jim said, concerned.

"Forgive me, Captain. This report has taken more time than initially anticipated."

"Must be some report you're working on. We're not working you too hard, are we? If you need me to take the load off-"

"I'll require no such assistance, Captain. I will preform my duties more swiftly from now on." Jim was starting to sense that his absence in the rec room had less to do with the report than with his emotions that he tried so hard to ignore.

"No, no, Spock, you take all the time you need. I just wanted you to know that if you ever needed my help, I'd be more than happy to do anything you need me to."

"Thank you, Captain, I appreciate the offer." Jim stared at him for a moment. To anyone else, he looked perfectly stoic as always. Everyone expressed their emotions through their body language, even Spock. His was just more subtle. _Much _more subtle. His shoulders drooped the tiniest bit, the corners of his mouth turned down almost microscopically, and there was pain deed _deep _down in his eyes. But somehow, Jim saw it plain as day.

"Spock, there was something I wanted to ask you about." He looked up at him finally, sensing the seriousness. "I want you to tell me if there is anything I can do to make you more . . . comfortable."

"No," Spock said, sounding slightly confused. "My quarters are adapted well to my needs and I require no further comforts as humans do."

"That's not what I mean, Spock. I know you don't necessarily have human emotions, but I also know that you're unhappy, and I don't like it." Spock opened his mouth to argue, but Jim continued on. "You're not the same as you used to be, Spock. You spend all of your time in your quarters when you're not working. You used to have so many ideas and so much curiosity in the lab, but I hear you haven't been taking charge and sharing your ideas as much. You're distant, Spock. Come on, I'm your friend, aren't I? You can tell me anything."

Spock looked at Jim intensely. It was obvious that he was battling himself, and Jim knew that there was something he wanted to tell him. _At least he seems to know what's wrong with him_, Jim thought. _If only he would just tell me . . ._

"I'm sorry, Jim," Spock said at last, "but I don't know what you mean." Jim sighed dejectedly.

"Alright, Spock. You let me know when you're ready to talk about it."

=======================================SPIRK=========================================

"He just . . . doesn't belong here," an Ensign said while eating with his friends.

"Who?"

"Spock! He's not human, he doesn't understand humans in the least, so why in this great galaxy would they assign him a ship with 429 humans and no Vulcans?"

"He doesn't belong with Vulcans, either," his friend added. "I heard that most Vulcans don't like him because he's half human."

"I heard a rumor that he was kicked out of the Vulcan Science Academy for being half human," another said. "That's why he had to join Starfleet."

"So he doesn't belong anywhere."

"That's kind of sad, isn't it? To not have anywhere he can call home, to not be part of anything?"

"He belongs with me," Jim said, surprising the young ensigns with his sudden presence. "He may not be our species, but he belongs with us, on the Enterprise, and if any of you question it, I'd suggest you take a look at some of his accomplishments on here."

Jim left the ashamed ensigns and sat across from Spock. "I guess you heard that, didn't you?" he asked.

"People often forget that my hearing is superior to theirs," Spock agreed. He pushed his spoon around in his bowl of soup for a moment. "Thank you, for . . . saying that."

"No problem, Spock. We're a family here, all of us." He smiled affectionately at Spock, who returned the smile with his own microscopic one.

"Captain-"

"Jim."

"Jim, I was wondering if you would like to join me in my quarters for a game of chess." Jim smiled widely.

"That would be lovely, Spock!" Spock nodded in agreement and continued to eat silently as Jim made general small talk. When they finished eating, they made their way to his quarters and set up the chess board.

"So, Spock, is there anything you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes, Captain, actually there is."

"Call me Jim, Spock."

"Yes, Jim. Well, I was wondering if . . . perhaps I should be reassigned to another ship, or a different assignment even."

"What? Why? You're an excellent science officer, I'd honestly say the best in the fleet! What makes you think you should be reassigned? . . . It's not what those ensigns said, is it?"

"Well . . . that among other things. I have become increasingly aware that the other crewmen are uncomfortable with my presence. I am concerned that it may affect their work ethic negatively."

"Spock, I . . . If you really want to be reassigned, I'll do whatever needs to be done, but I strongly discourage it. Maybe it's selfish of me, maybe I'm the only one on the ship that appreciates you, but I know it would be a great loss to the Enterprise for you to leave. You're an important part of this ship. It's like I said before: we're a family." Jim instinctively reached forward to hold Spock's hands. He flinched a little bit, but actually let Jim hold them.

"Jim . . . I do not wish to leave this ship, or you . . ."

"Then don't. Who cares what those ensigns think? If you ever feel like you don't belong, just come talk to me, okay?" Jim smiled lovingly at him and Spock returned his own loving look.

He didn't know what made him do it. Spock often suggested that, with their hands touching, Jim could feel his love for Spock and Spock's reciprocating love and was overwhelmed by it. Jim thought it was the way Spock's fathomless eyes lit up at him. Whatever the case, Jim leaned forward and pressed his lips to Spock's.

Spock kissed back gently, moving his hand up to stroke Jim's hair. When they separated, Spock looked sadly into Jim's eyes.

"Jim . . . we can't-"

"Why not?"

"We have . . . we have our duties . . ."

"Do you know how many people on this ship are in relationships together? If they can do it, why can't we?"

"You're the captain, I am the first officer-"

"Spock, I don't care!" Jim whined, ghosting his lips over Spock's ear. "It doesn't matter. 'A life without love is no life at all.'"

"There is no logic behind that statement."

"Whatever, Spock, I just love you so deal with it."

" . . . I suppose there's no fighting it then, is there?"

And they lived happily ever after the end.


End file.
